


Turn and Counter-Turn

by azazelsocks



Series: kinkmeme fills [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha-to-Omega Turning, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Sam Winchester, Come Inflation, Crying, Knotting, Lucifer's Cage, M/M, Omega Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester Whump, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-02
Updated: 2017-12-02
Packaged: 2019-02-09 12:29:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12887895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azazelsocks/pseuds/azazelsocks
Summary: Forthis spnkinkmeme prompt: The first sign of a successful turning is a single continuous orgasm as the omega rejects the now foreign alpha cum, followed by days of literally gut wrenching pain as the reproductive system rearranges itself. Lucifer likes to fuck Sam through it all, then reverse the change and start all over again.





	Turn and Counter-Turn

**Author's Note:**

> presented without further comment: lucifer fucking sam, in the cage, nonconsensually, literally for days.

Sam sobbed into the ground, trapped in the throes of a heat left unattended. The discomfort had shifted from feeling like a knife in his gut several hours (days?) ago, to a deep ache in his groin and the slickness of his own bodily fluids, skin chafing from rubbing against itself sticky with sweat. From vast experience, Sam knew it would get worse, each tiny discomfort building and compounding with each other until Sam was writhing in agony and begging for someone, anyone, to fuck him, use him, anything, Lucifer, master, _please_ —

But Lucifer was gone as always, having lost interest as soon as the heat changed and Sam wanted it too.

Many hours (days weeks) later Sam woke from his trance, arousal and heat draining away. He felt hollowed out, empty, and filthy in ways the layers of sweat, slick, and Lucifer’s come could not explain. Sam pushed himself up on his elbows, then got onto his knees, and stared out at the vast cracked-earth landscape of the Cage, the ever-present darkness and the bloody half-light of the red false-sun that rose over Hell. He was utterly alone. 

A wave of intense, nauseous self-loathing swept over Sam, twisting ugly in his ribcage. He was disgusting, pathetic, an impotent alpha and an unwanted omega; toy, pet, plaything, slave, object. Meat. 

He rolled over for Lucifer without a fight, for Christ’s sake, and the name of God tasted bloody in his mouth. 

Sam wasn't left alone with his self-hatred for long (he was never allowed to be alone for very long) before brilliant wings beat over his entire field of view and Lucifer stood in front of him. He wore a small, indulgent smile on Nick’s face, and Sam looked down rather than meet his eyes. Gently, fingers ran through Sam’s hair, petting and then tugging, forcing Sam to look up. 

He obeyed. Lucifer’s smile grew, and he withdrew his hand (he wiped it on his pants, fingers sweaty from Sam’s hair, and Sam felt shame). “You're a mess,” he remarked, circling around. 

Sam lowered his eyes, humiliatingly affected by Lucifer’s words but not quite daring to move, however much Lucifer looming over his back made him want to bolt. Lucifer laughed at him and brushed his fingers over Sam’s shoulder.

Grace seared across his body, washing it clean and healing the damage Lucifer had done earlier. The soreness melted out of his muscles, and a feeling of freshness suffused him, like having just dried off from a good hot shower. Sam’s stomach flipped harder, nausea rising. He'd been really hoping Lucifer wouldn't want to do it again right away. 

Lucifer petted him once, gently, before his hand came to rest on the nape of Sam’s neck. Sam's skin crawled. The grip on his neck tightened, and Lucifer shoved Sam's face to the ground, the movement pressing Sam’s ass against Lucifer’s groin. Sam’s fingers curled against the ground, and he forced his breathing to steady. 

Long ago (decades? centuries?), the first time Lucifer had held him down and fucked the alpha out of him, he’d fought. Tried to wrestle off Lucifer like he had managed in Stull Cemetery, thinking stupidly he could defend himself against the Morning Star in his own territory. Lucifer had done what he wanted anyways, and when he was finished, had given Sam a crash course in the new rules of existence.

This was hardly the worst thing Lucifer could do to him in the Cage. It wasn't worth fighting. 

Lucifer licked Sam’s neck with an obscene noise, laughing at Sam’s shudder. Then his clothes vanished. Bare, hot skin pressed up against Sam’s back and ass, and _oh god_ Sam couldn’t stop himself from tensing. He let out a ragged yell when Lucifer shoved three fingers in anyways, twisting and scissoring. He hated being in heat more, writhing for Lucifer’s attention, but this, before his body adapted itself for penetration, hurt far worse. 

"Don't be so dramatic,” Lucifer crooned, pulling his fingers out. “It's much more painful when I strip your flesh from your bones. Isn't this stripping game more fun?” He laughed at his own joke. 

Sam squeezed his eyes shut against the wave of nausea as Lucifer's dick prodded his hole. The archangel’s hands settled on Sam’s hips, yanked him backwards with inhuman strength, filling him up all at once, and Sam _screamed_. Lucifer groaned obscenely, plunging in again, and again. The drag of his cock was agony over the tearing Sam had already sustained, and the blood wasn't helping. Childishly, he buried his face in his arms, trying to hide from reality. 

He breathed through his nose and thought about not being fucked into the ground in Hell. Thought about—not Jess, not his fantasies of a life gone better, they were too precious to taint—but driving down the empty Midwest highways with Dean going double the speed limit. Then his mind wandered to the somber drive to Detroit, the drive that had led to this, and Sam’s world narrowed back down to Hell, and the pain of his hole, and Lucifer’s hand stroking him to hardness. Tears leaked out of his eyes.

Lucifer came for the first time. Sam made a noise as Lucifer's knot swelled, stretching, pulling at the tears. “Wonder how many times it'll take, Sam,” he whispered conspiratorially. “How many knots 'til you're my bitch again?”

 _Usually two or three_ , Sam thought, unless Lucifer felt like artificially drawing it out, and loathed that he knew that. Lucifer laughed softly, like he'd heard that thought (he probably had), but didn't comment.

They stayed like that for a while, Sam's face still buried in his arms, Lucifer rolling his hips gently against Sam. The knot started to deflate, but Lucifer didn't soften. He started again. It was better this time, slicker, and Sam hated it, hated as Lucifer started stroking him harder, hated the way they were both panting now.

He came, clenched around Lucifer, self-loathing a brighter flame than the orgasm.

“Mm, not quite,” Lucifer said. “Think it would go faster if I got Michael in here?”

“No,” Sam gasped. “No—no—” Lucifer had never let Michael fuck him before. Not that Michael seemed interested, contemptuous of human vices and above petty emotional torment. No, chiefest of Michael's interests was punishment: subsuming Sam in pain until there was nothing left of Sam but a bright spark of agony where there used to be a soul.

One time he'd actually met Michael, not just seen him as he and Lucifer clashed, and after that he stopped trying to run away from Lucifer.

“I think it'd be fun,” Lucifer said, yanking Sam’s hair so he was pulled up onto his elbows. “We could do it together. Brothers should share, don't you agree? Two knots. I hear some omegas have trouble taking that.”

As an alpha, it would rip Sam apart.  
He stared sightlessly forward, terrified, barely even registering Lucifer's thrusting. Lucifer wouldn't. Lucifer was too possessive, he would never, it wasn't going to happen—

“Michael doesn't think too much of demeaning himself by fucking a whore like you, but I think I could convince him.” Lucifer leaned close, nibbling Sam’s ear. “All I'd have to do is show him your mind, how much you hate yourself for this, how you blame _yourself_ —” He laughed delightedly. “That’s the reaction he wants, he's just too uncreative to get it himself.”

“No,” Sam repeated, desperate, horrified at the implication that Lucifer might actually do it. “No, please—”

“You only want me? That's so sweet of you, Sam.” Lucifer’s voice turned from coy to ice. “Beg me.”

Samcould do nothing but obey. “Please, I only—” his voice cracked. “I w-want you, nobody else, please, Lucifer—”

Lucifer groaned and shoved his half-formed knot past Sam’s feebly resisting hole, and Sam’s pleading trailed off in a scream. A second passed, as both parties caught their breath, silence broken by Sam sobbing as quietly as he could. Lucifer skimmed a hand possessively over Sam's belly, the small swell of Lucifer’s come. “Because you're my favorite, Sam, I won't do it,” he said, then added, “today.”

Sam struggled to stop crying, to speak over the terror twisting his chest, the threat only postponed, not removed. Lucifer would want him grateful, groveling, and if he didn’t think Sam appreciated it enough, he would change his mind. “Th-thank you,” he rasped, and then, afraid he hadn't been clear enough, spoke up: “Thank you for—for your mercy—”

“Shut up,” Lucifer said, almost affectionate, but Sam knew better than to take it as teasing and closed his mouth.

Lucifer knotted him once more, and Sam was starting to cramp, belly bulging. His muscles ached from maintaining the same position and his knees were scraped bloody, which was all what Lucifer wanted, of course. He had stopped deriving any pleasure from Lucifer fucking him, hurt and overstimulated. He wasn't even sure if he was still hard.

Heat started to build in his belly anyways as Lucifer rocked in and out of him shallowly, knot tugging just inside the rim of his hole. It had a different quality to it; sharp, almost painful in its intensity, and Sam recognized the feeling and closed his eyes in resignation. Lucifer noticed too, and slowed thrusting to start stroking Sam’s cock again.

A long, continuous stream of semen poured out of Sam, his entire body locking up in pleasure. Behind him Lucifer groaned as Sam clamped down him, Sam tense and shuddering as he continued to come, and come, until he was kneeling in a puddle of his own release. His belly clenched as the orgasm intensified again, his body’s last efforts to empty him, and after one final spurt, Sam was coming dry.

That was the first sign that he was no longer an alpha.

Wrung-out from the force of his orgasm, oversensitized and overwhelmed, Sam’s head dropped in exhaustion, hair tickling his arms as he panted. Lucifer was fucking him again. Sam hadn’t even noticed when he’d started.

A minute passed, Sam bracing himself. Then he felt the first knife-stab of pain deep in his gut.

That was the second sign that he was no longer an alpha.

Once a turning took hold, the body forcefully expelled male gametes to make room for the production of female gametes and the hormones necessary for childbirth, and then went to work reforming the new omega’s reproductive system. It was like cramping, but worse, his whole pelvic region alight with agony. Lucifer was wrong. This was just as painful as the flesh-stripping, maybe worse.

He barely registered Lucifer shoving his knot in for the fourth time, consumed by the pain. Sam tried to curl in on himself, shuddering. Lucifer pinned both his hands above his head, stretched him out flat to feel the full force of the change, laughing at Sam’s miserable moan.

He was making noises, every other breath a yelp of pain, and he couldn't stop. Usually he tried not to fight Lucifer, as it tended to make things worse, but he couldn’t stop doing that either, twisting against Lucifer’s hold on his wrists and trying to buck him off. The archangel rode out his struggles implacably, as immovable as a rock.

God, he had _days_ of this to look forward to, and Sam sobbed.

He lost time, absorbed in his own misery, time feeling like it was looping back on itself in the sameness of the agony. Deep, burning throbbing, the only way to mark time the changing rhythm of Lucifer fucking him through the transition. He did not pull out, and the pain of changing was amplified by cramping as Sam swelled with load after load. The slick, filthy puddle beneath him was no longer only his own release, but Lucifer’s, Sam so overfull that Lucifer fucking in and out caused him to leak, dripping come down his thighs.

It was maybe the second or third day—not that Sam could tell what days were anymore—when Lucifer became bored and yanked Sam up from his position flattened to the ground, relieving the pressure against Sam's swollen belly as he rearranged Sam’s knees under him. His knot was forming, Sam could feel it, but he didn’t push in, instead bumping it against Sam’s rim as it grew. It was almost fully inflated when Lucifer slammed forward, shoving the mass into Sam all at once.

Sam couldn't really scream anymore, throat raw and wrecked, but that forced a raspy wail out of him anyways. He hadn’t thought he could hurt worse than he already did, like the change was rearranging his intestines, but it turned out he could, sore hole stretched agonizingly wide around Lucifer’s grapefruit knot.

Then Lucifer pulled _back_ , knot tugging free with a squelch and another pained noise from Sam. He fucked Sam like that, knot forcing its way in and out of Sam to the tune of hitched sobs. Come spilled from Sam's hole every time Lucifer thrust in.

Leaning in close enough that Sam could feel his breath on his ear, still knot-fucking him, Lucifer whispered, “Just one more day 'til your heat hits. You know, if you're very, very good, I might consider fucking you through that too, this time.”

Sam whimpered, too exhausted to react further.

“And then,” Lucifer said, pausing with the widest part of his knot spreading Sam open until Sam began to squirm, “I’ll clean you up, and we can start all over again.”

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, but a tear escaped anyways, and then another, until he was weeping silently as Lucifer laughed above him and eternity stretched before him.


End file.
